Soft white snow,
frosted,
on the petals
of a red rose,
weeping
on the floor,
blanket covered
cobbles now
its eternal
resting place.
Discarded,
frozen.
All around
the beauty
slumbers,
awaiting spring,
and life's blessing.
This red rose,
weeps alone.
A wrinkled hand
picks it up,
weeps red tears
upon it,
and whispers
I understand.
YOU ARE READING
Dawns mutterings
PoetryCompilation of poems, inspired by natures bounty. We are of the earth, so it is only fitting that it in turn inspires us. Although much of my poetry is in some way inspired by nature this small compilation highlights just how much it impacts all I d...
